Routine
ROUTINE Slipping into the shadows was always a weird feeling. “''Cold''” would probably be the best word, if he was limited to just one word. It was like stepping out of the sunlight and into shadow, except it was more… he wasn’t sure. All-encompassing, perhaps. What was also weird was the feeling of not actually having a tangible body. Or maybe the lack of feeling. He wasn’t quite sure, but technically having no senses or sensory organs or anything was a pretty freaky experience if he really thought about it. Deciding to not think about it anymore, he moved himself across the rock, letting his shadowed form flit from stone to stone, practically leaping forwards way faster than he would have been able to move in his regular body. One of the benefits of the power, he supposed. He normally preferred to either run, or propel himself along using any other abilities. However, in this instance, he also didn’t fancy being noticed. It was less a matter of not getting clearance for the mission (although he hadn’t exactly done that, either), and more a case of not wanting to be spotted by the cluster of figures that he was rapidly approaching. The figures in question were maelstrom ones. They may have ONCE been people, but dark and unnatural energy had long since tightened its grip on them. They were now masses of splotchy and blackened skin, shuffling around on limbs so worn of flesh and muscle that the bones were visible. Some of them had limbs twisted and deformed, fused with metal to create weapons – one, for instance, had a wicked curved blade in the place of their left arm. Their heads and shoulders burned softly with indigo flames, and their faces were featureless except for pairs of beady and sunken blood-coloured eyes. In all honesty, it was a disgusting, and a little horrifying, and though he’d known that these creatures existed his entire life, he still felt an instinctual wave of revulsion at his gaze landing on them. Some of them weren’t even close to human – a couple were shaped like giant spider-like creatures, stumbling around on two many legs, cannons fused into their bodies as their bloodshot eyes scanned the terrain. He remembered those ones. He would have shuddered if he had been in his physical form. As it was, he remembered the sight of dozens of gaping maws closing in on him, ready to tear him to shreds. The antsy-ness only made him more willing to fight, but he first scoured the area one last time, sliding in a circle around the group without any of them noticing his presence. It was the first cluster of maelstrom beings that had been seen outside Nimbus station in years, so he was eager to make sure it was just them, and not – y’know – some kind of ambush. He couldn’t detect any giant armies anywhere, though, so he eventually decided: screw it. He’d fight slowly (as opposed to wiping them all out in one go, which he could almost definitely do), and see if any more showed up. Then go from there. Simples. Rising from the rock like some kind of hell apparition, he lifted a newly-reformed hand and fired off a laser-ish blast. His aim was off, however, and it merely cleaved one of the figure’s heads in half instead of obliterating the whole thing. And, to his misfortune, maelstrom was usually harder to destroy than that. No time to focus on his misstep, however, as the entire group had been alerted to his presence with his opening attack. Not missing a beat, he dragged himself completely out of shadow, stumbling a little at the feeling of walking on corporeal legs, before wheeling around and firing off another blast. This time, he cut one of the figures clean in half, separating its torso from its legs. Still not enough to kill the thing, but it was now incapacitated. So, huzzah for that. One of the remaining figures (how many were there, anyway? Like, six? Something like that) clumsily lunged towards him, attempting to stab him with its blade-arm. He dodged by almost bending over backwards, dragging his spine out of the way even as he almost turned himself upside-down. Returning to a normal position when the blade retracted, he acted on instinct and, coating his hand in energy, lunged forward and shoved his hand through the creature’s chest. Primary instinct: Wow, that was awesome. Secondary instinct: DisGUSTing, loathsome, there were fleshy bits all over his hand, EW. Not wasting time, he pulled his hand out of the creature’s chest, flicking his fingers in disgust to try and get some of the residue off. The figure itself was still standing up, so he quickly sliced it from top to bottom, watching in a grim sort of satisfaction as the two halves fell on the floor. That left five more humanoid figures, as well as two spiderlings. Could he do this? Yeah, yeah, no real biggie. The spiderlings, as one, turned to face him and began to power up their ranged weapons. At the same time, all of the remaining humanoids began to walk towards him, arms outstretched. Obviously they were all fully aware of him now (they may not have been before – they were dull creatures), so he had to be quick. Still waving his hand around due to the gore on it, he crouched low and lunged forward. In his palms he conjured electricity – sparks streaked up his arms as he ran. His arm twinged ever so slightly, the scars a reminder of the importance of not going overboard. Reaching the mob, he spread his hands and let the electricity flow outwards. It struck the figures, causing them to writhe and spasm as it coursed through them at his command. One still looked to move towards him – he grabbed its necrotic arm (gross) and yanked, pulling it over and onto the floor. Before it could move, he fired another laser from his hand and fried its body. Another one down. The spiderlings fired their projectiles. Two balls of energy streaked downwards towards him. He threw himself to the side to avoid the shots, rolling away and landing on his knees like a badass. One of the figures, recovered from the electricity, lunged towards him with the blade embedded in its arm. It missed him but went through his coat, which was actually very upsetting, because he liked that coat, and now he was going to have to get it repaired. Again. Suddenly irritated, he headbutted the figure before grabbing either side of it’s head and lighting both of his hands on fire. The intense heat made him rapidly blink and lean back as the thing’s head burned down to a crisp. He deactivated the fire. The thing swayed, and then fell – he was forced to wrench his coat off of the blade to avoid getting pulled down with it, which only made the tear wider. Damn it. While that had been happening, the spiderlings appeared to have been preparing another blast apiece. One of them fired again, and he hastily ducked under it. He could feel the breeze buffeting his hair as the projectile shot past. He jumped up and tried to fire energy back at it, but it bounced off the thick armour around the creature’s face. Right. He needed to get up close and personal when it came to these nasties. Slipping back into the shadows, he evaluated his options for a moment before shooting into the shadow of the spiderling itself, sliding up it’s limbs and re-emerging on the top of its head, which must have been all sorts of freaky for the creature in question. Not willing to give it time to process, however, he sent sparks and electric blasts into its head. The lighting bypassed the armour and must have done something to its head, because the creature collapsed a moment later, steam erupting from its head. Almost tumbling off, he just about managed to destabilise itself before having to hastily back away from a new attack by one of the humanoids. It rasped incoherently as it tried to kill him, flailing its limbs wildly and trying to rake its claws across his face. Not willing to let his face of all things receive any damage (like – not that he was overly handsome or vain, but his face was his face, and he liked it just the way it was, thank you very much), he pressed on and simply grabbed the creature’s arm, sending an uncontrollable surge of chaotic energy through it. The result was that the humanoid ended up over energy capacity, and it responded by exploding. Hopping back to avoid any entrails or whatever, he glanced around. Two more figures and one more spiderling. Easy as… pie? He had to wonder: how had that become a phrase, anyway? Was there something easy about pie specifically that he just didn’t understand? A guttural growl dragging itself from the throat of one of the remaining figures reminded him that now was almost definitely not the time to ponder turns of phrase. Now was the time for action! Taking the initiative, he lunged forwards again before any of his opponents could react. With every intention of ending the fight quickly, he created more fire, throwing a ball of it at one of the humanoids. It was hit in the chest, and the fire quickly spread across its body. It screeched as its flesh burned. Ignoring the ever-disgusting smell of rotten and burning body parts, he turned to the other spiderling, only to be stopped in his tracks when it spat a clump of webbing in his direction. The web landed on one of his feet, fastening it firmly to the ground. He tried to pull his leg free, but paused as he realised that the spiderling was charging up another blast. At the same time, the final humanoid was lumbering towards his back. This one had no arms at all, only a vicious-looking maw of spiked and elongated teeth. Its eyes seemed to narrow as it approached. Uh-oh, spaghetti-ohs. He took a moment to compose himself. Was he helpless? Hell no. Was he fine? Hell yes. Could he think of a bunch of ways to get out of the situation? Hell… maybe. Maybe not, actually. Ah, well. he had been trying to stick to finesse, but if that wasn’t going to work, there was always the old fallback of raw power. Extending his hands (one facing either energy) a wave of energy blasted from each limb, completely obliterating his opponents. Within less than a second, their forms were turned to ash and scattered for meters by the respective shockwaves. Musing over how fun that had been (torn coat and gorey arm notwithstanding), he severed the web trapping him with a well-aimed laser, before surveying the landscape one final time. Not a thing. Not a dickybird. Eventually cutting his losses, he shrugged and began to make the journey back to Nimbus Station. No morphing into shadows this time – it wasn’t like he was in any hurry anymore – he contented himself with a brisk walk. His mind mulled over the fight. It had been fun. Exhilarating. But at the same time… “Well, that was sort of pointless.” He mused to himself. Category:Stories Category:Short Stories